


The Resistance

by tyrantsandcreampuffs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Post-Thor (2011), Pre-Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4630104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrantsandcreampuffs/pseuds/tyrantsandcreampuffs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane's invention works, but not as she planned. When she falls into the sky and to a world she never knew existed, she learns that she isn't alone.</p><p>Set Post-Thor and Pre-Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> I originally intended this to be a multi-chaptered fic, but I'm still undecided whether to just end this here or to make it a full-length epic novella. The last part is longer because it is more dialogue-based and is the initially intended format of the story, but I thought it needed some sort of backstory first.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this one! An update of _haunted_ will be coming soon enough. :-)

“From which stars have we fallen to meet each other here?”  
Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

Some nights Jane dreams she’s falling into the sky, bound for worlds no one’s ever seen before. Her flight is ceaseless because she doesn’t quite know what to imagine at the end; her dreams terminate right before she can conjure a vision of the realm of the gods. She fantasizes about the Einstein-Rosen Bridge, the culmination of all her research, the Bi-Frost, and tries to recreate the spectral lights in her mind. And lastly, she hears the echoes of Thor’s promise to return to her. Those nights always end with her waking up with a pang in her chest.

She spends her days in her laboratory, working on a device that would allow her to find her way to him. It had been months since he left to supposedly quell the insurrection of his brother and he had yet to fulfill his end of their deal. She’d thought up of theory after theory on what could have happened to him as he went back to Asgard, but she had no means of ascertaining any of her ideas; and neither did it do her any good to ponder on all of the trouble he could be in. All she could do for the weeks that followed was to wait, staring up at the sky and waiting for a sign, a beep on her reader, anything that would tell her that he was back on earth once more. But none came, so she resigned herself to paving her own path – as she had for most of her life.

Erik has been nothing short of understanding, helping her every step of the way. Rechecking her calculations, staying up with her as she analyzed data, even bringing her much needed cup of coffee at precisely eight o’clock in the evening. With Darcy back in college and finishing her degree, Jane needs the company and all the support she could get – even if it is only Erik, he is more than enough.

One day, she thinks she’s finally done it. They’ve compartmentalized the machine into a small sphere that shoots up a mass of energy into the sky that will simulate the environment of the opened bridge. Erik won’t admit it, but Jane knows he fears what could happen should the trial go awry. Once he’s fast asleep after their little celebration that involved Jane trying to get him to pass out with all the alcohol in her stock, Jane drives off to the middle of the dessert, invention in tow, ready to try out what could be her only chance in getting back to Thor.

Jane releases the safety and starts the procedures which will allow the device to power up. She waits in anticipation as the lights flicker and the soft hum of the apparatus starts to amplify. Just when Jane’s filled with hope, the machine stops working. The astrophysicist frowns and takes a step closer to the device, but after a second she’s thrown back into the air and lands on the cool sand, a good thirty feet away from her previous standpoint. She regains her bearing and rolls over to be in a more apt position to stand, but a flash of brilliant light illuminates the entire landscape. The sky above her is chromatic and there is a beam that stands out and it is centered right where her invention is.

She couldn’t believe that she’s actually done it. For a moment, she considers that it is another vision she’s construed for her fantastical purposes, but she blinks and it’s still there. The bridge is actually _there_. When she gets back on her feet, she runs – recklessly, at that – to the light. Like a moth attached to a flame, Jane could not bring herself away even though the event practically screamed of danger. She couldn’t hear the warning tolls; all she could think of is that right in front of her is what she has dreamt of her entire life, is the way to the worlds she’s always believed existed beyond their human grasp.

Jane runs and runs and _runs_ , until her feet are no longer on the ground and she’s not running, but _falling_.

* * *

Not in the first time of the history of man does one learn that actuality is quite different than what occurs in the realm of dreams.

Jane is weightless in this tunnel of light, this rainbow bridge, and she speeds through space as though time is a non-existent dimension. She can name the first few stars she passes and then she enters unfamiliar territory to mankind. The fact that she’s the first human to gaze upon these constellations astounds Jane and terrifies her at the same time. She is alone, light-years away from her kind, and only presently does it register that this was – _is_ – a terrible idea.

But it is too late for her to turn around now. The desperation to be reunited with Thor dwarfs her instinct to be safe and sound in the comfort of her laboratory. Is this not what she had worked for? Possible misconstrued relationships aside, Jane wants _this_ – to be closer to the stars, to have other worlds in her reach.

So when she perceives another world with upstanding towers of gold that shines like it is a sun in itself, Jane can only assume that she has stumbled upon Asgard. Her heartbeat races as she sees that her reconstructed bridge ends on a literal bridge leading to the realm of the gods – _her_ god – and Jane can’t believe that she’s actually made it.

She reaches out, the light bending around her hands, and it is so _close_ that she feels something solid on her fingertips. The tunnel fades around her and she is left grasping on the ledge of this new world. She screams out for help as she feels the muscles in her arms strain with every second she tries to hold on. But Jane has never thought of physicality as her strong suit; rather, her intellect had kept her afloat in the world for so long – it had brought her here, had it not? – that she’d overlooked the need for strength and endurance. When she hears the drumming of someone else’s steps to her direction, it is too late.

Jane is falling again.

* * *

There is no channel directing her motion this time around. She feels as if she is falling endlessly; there is nothing around her to signify the distance or the time that has passed since then and now. She experiences every emotion as she falls, but mostly there is fear as she questions the possibility of her ending back on earth.

Where else she could end up? There were other worlds, Thor had told her, but which one could possibly be habitable for her? Would she end up murdered on sight in the next world for simply being human, Midgardian? Perhaps she should have brushed up more on her mythology – maybe that would have allowed for a slightly better understanding of where she is headed to. All she can recall is Thor’s lulling words as he explained how everyone and everything were connected to the world tree, Yggdrasil.

Jane closes her eyes. It is a miracle that she’s still alive and breathing in what should be the vacuum of space, but _soon_ , she thinks, soon she’ll probably burn up as she closes in on a star instead of another world. The silence is maddening, but Jane tries to compensate through the tears that pass her closed eyes by thinking of all her loved ones. It is the only comfort she has.

Jane doesn’t want to admit it, but at this point she’s waiting to die. Like the many other scientists she’s idolized, Jane likes the fact that at least she would perish in pursuit of knowledge.

So she falls and falls and _falls_ , until she no longer feels weightless and there is a mass of land beneath her. She’s no longer falling and she’s finally _somewhere_. After an infinite trip, Jane is too tired to register anything of her surroundings. Her eyes remained closed, her breathing ragged, and her hands clutching the land beside her – as though any moment it could be taken away from her.

* * *

When she awakes, she takes in her environment despite the fatigue that tells her to keep her eyes shut. It would appear that she had landed on a rock floating in space – a meteor, perhaps?  Everything is tinted dark blue, as though it is perpetually night; there is no _sun_ , no massive star centered at the orbit, but there are _galaxies_ – brilliant shimmers and swirls of blue and violet, interstellar dust and stars. As Jane further inspects the heavens, she could see moons nearby as well, impressively large and close enough for Jane to see its craters. All in all, it is a astonishing sight, despite its grimness.

After she blinks, she spots a cloaked figure stepping out from one of the tall pillars and Jane yelps, unsure of this new lifeform she’s encountered. She is still sitting on the floor, her back supported by another column.

It first speaks to her in an undiscernible language. At her look of confusion, it – _he?_ – starts over.

“Midgardian.”

The way it speaks is patronizing, as though it is belittling her for being from earth. Jane would defend her race if she had any idea what to say, but her tongue acts as though it has never learned to speak. She swallows the moisture in her throat and prevents bile from rising up at the sight of the creature’s blood-covered teeth.

“How far you have wandered, Midgardian.” One moment it is in one place and the next, it is displaced meters away. Jane has to blink to make sure that she is not simply hallucinating. “What is your name?”

“J-Jane Foster,” she says, stuttering. “Where am I?”

“You are in His domain, _Jane Foster_. Trespassing,” it hisses. It takes another step and now it is right in front of her, hand wrapped around her throat to bring her up on her toes. “Do you wish for your demise to come so soon?”

“P-please,” she chokes out. Jane’s vision blurs, but her eyes remain fixated on the creature before her. How it has no eyes, only blinds which cover the upper-half of its face; how the red of its teeth stands out against the blue veins of its skin. Her fingers are clawing at its hands, yet he does not release her. “ _Please_.”

It feels like another lifetime – like she has fallen yet again – passes before he lets her go. She takes in a huge gulp of air and lets it sit in her lungs, her whole body convulsing all the while, before she breathes it out.

“Jane Foster. A vessel for darkness, a portent for the death of the universe. You possess a strength unmatched by ordinary humans. You will bear an infinity stone within you.” It recites mechanically; but she is still too busy recovering to note anything it says. “You can be of use to Him.”

Before she can speak another word, the landscape around her shifts. The rocks blur out and the stars in the sky disappear; her vision is filled with only darkness. Her mind, nothing.

* * *

When she finally comes to her senses, Jane realizes that she is now in a dim room with the only light source being one torch hung to the wall on her right, its blue flame lambent. She sees no windows, no doors, no way in or out – but she is not alone.

 “So you live.” The flame flickers and casts light on the stranger’s face. Jane can only see little from the distance between them, but she can tell that the other person she’s entrapped with is a man – whether he is from Asgard or another world, she couldn’t tell, but his form isn’t as foreign as the previous creature. His eyes are fixed on hers and it is all she can do to return his gaze. “The Other should have killed you if he didn’t foresee a purpose for you. You must be truly remarkable, then, _Jane Foster_.”

The fact that the person before her knows of her identity takes her aback.

“All my prayers, and it is _you_ —” When he refers to her, there is a hint of repugnance in his tone. He stops mid-speech and shakes his head. Instead of completing his thought, he looks to the wall with the torch. The new angle allows Jane to observe his profile; the steep slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheek, the clench of his jaw. There is a grin on his lips and a manic glint in his eyes – his face, the model of madness.

With a blink of an eye, he stands closer to her than before. Just like the creature before – or _The Other_ , as he had mentioned – this man had incredible speed which her human eyes could not perceive. Or is it a means of magic, some kind of teleportation? Jane does not know what it is that makes them move from one place to another so quickly.

He does not take a step further. Jane stares up at him from her seated position and his expression changes from frenzied to disconsolate. His hand shoots up and curls into a fist, banging it on an invisible wall she hadn’t noticed is there between them.

“Why is it _you_ who must find me here, between worlds? He should have just let me die. _They_ should have let me die,” the man spits out bitterly before walking back to his end of the room. “Odin, Frigga, Thor—”

The god’s name rings an alarm in her head and she’s on her feet, walking to the center of the room. “You know Thor?”

“Know him? Ha!” The man laughs as he parks himself, back reclining on the wall, long legs stretched out on the floor.  “Had he not bothered to mention me at all during your little _tryst_?”

The referral of his spending on earth with her as a mere tryst is insulting; Jane feels indignant and ready to slap the smug off his face, but she almost walks into that wall she could not see, and he snickers. Now, the earlier curiosity of his identity is replaced with rage.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she lashes out, hitting the wall with her bare hands, kicking at it with her worn out trainers.  “Thor is a _good man_. He saved my town from an alien machine that threatened to destroy everything, he taught me the way to the stars—”

“Taught you?” the man interrupted. “But he didn’t show you? Why, because he didn’t deem you important enough; because you are a mortal whose lifetime is but a breath to him? Thor, the golden prince—you truly believed him to be your equal? Then you are a greater fool than I thought, Jane Foster.”

“He left because he had to deal with something in Asgard. His brother, Loki, threatened to destroy the rest of the realms—”

“Oh?” Again, he interjected. “Is that a fact or a postulation of your making to ease your discomfiture at the notion of him not returning to you? Had he whispered sweet promises into your ear, kissed your hands; like how he was taught to do to ladies of the court? Had he led you to believe that he could possibly choose _you_ over the throne of Asgard?”

“I don’t care about any of that! What matters is that Thor is a decent man – god, whatever. He is a _worthy_ prince and to-be king.”

“He is not worthy! He is but a child in his yearning for the throne. He would wage war and put Asgard in peril just so he could quench his thirst for blood. He would kill our people before he could lead them.”

“And who are you to say such about him? How do _you_ know Thor?”

The man stands up again, dusts off his pants, and takes long and slow strides to meet her at the middle.

“Thor is – _was_ – my brother,” he answers as he takes the final step. Jane could not look away from his intense gaze and could only watch as the light of the flame flickered its brilliant blue in the depth of his irises. “I am the shadow of his being, the evil he loved to spurn when he himself was no better!”

“You’re…” Her breaths are terse. “You’re _Loki_.”

“And you, Jane Foster.” Loki smiles, baring his teeth. “You have fallen so far from home.”

 _So have you_ , Jane thinks as she recalls holding on to Asgard on the tips of her fingers. This is not at all what she expected when she decided to test out her machine. She had thought she’d be with Thor, that he’d let her study the stars of his world and that of the others – not _this_ , whatever this is: being trapped in a cell with his renegade brother somewhere between worlds.

But so long as she isn’t alone, Jane decides, she just might be okay.


	2. Unnatural Selection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you guys have done it! Oh, man, I really didn't intend for this to happen, but you guys encouraged it, so here it is: the next chapter of The Resistance. I'm getting excited and nervous at the same time! Thank you for all the kudos you've sent my way. Thank you also to those who take the time to comment about this story. I love reading what you guys thought of it, so hit me up!
> 
> Also, I swear _haunted_ will be up soon enough. :-P

"We must learn to regard people less in the light of what they do or omit to do, and more in the light of what they suffer."  
Dietrich Bonhoeffer

* * *

In this sunless world, Jane doesn’t know what a day is supposed to be. Is there a center to this end of the universe – is she still in _her_ universe at all? When she tries to think of what a day back in earth is supposed to feel like, it is as though the knowledge has never existed within her. She attempts to count seconds but even that simple task is impossible.  The foremost theory she has is that falling away from earth at an incredible speed has caused her perception of time to distort permanently – but again, she has no way of ascertaining anything.

All she knows for certain is this: she is trapped with Loki.

However, given that their interaction has been almost non-existent since their initial introduction, Jane thinks that he’s nothing more than a physical manifestation of a form of reassurance. Loki being here means that she isn’t alone and that there’d be someone to come save them one of these days. He is a prince, is he not? Surely Thor would not simply betray his brother, even after whatever it is Loki had done back in Asgard. He would rescue Loki – and hopefully her as well.

But it is nagging at her, the _not knowing_. Jane desperately wants to find out where it is she has fallen to and why is it that _he_ , of all people – gods included – ended up here too. As a scientist, she is driven by the curiosity, the _need_ to have these questions – and much more – answered. It would simply not do for her mind to degrade by merely being acquiescent to her present circumstances.

So she does – ask, that is.

He looks at her, a grin finally forming on his features. She generally tries not to notice him and instead just sleep, but whenever she’s awake, all he does is mope about. Now that he is smiling, Jane thinks that it’s a better alternative to his sulking. There is a certain positivity to his beam even when he’s supposedly being sardonic – and Jane decides that she likes him a whole good deal more when he’s trying to lighten up the mood of the too severe prison they are in.

“Why,” he larks from his end of the room. “Bored already, aren’t you? I imagine you’re quite fed up with this prison after… does it matter how long it’s been, really? And to not have previously engaged me in conversation, even simply to jape! It would seem that I have belittled your capacity for silence.”

“I asked you a simple question,” she says. “And you ended up giving me a soliloquy. What is it with you and your need for dramatics?”

“You dare presume to know who I am and what I need when you’ve spoken to me but twice since you arrived?”

“I dare because I have nothing else to do here,” she cries out, exasperated. Now she remembers why she didn’t bother with Loki – because he had been _infuriating_. Debating with him about Thor’s integrity had been a moot point; he’d only succeeded in making her doubt her perception of the other god. She’s resolved to never bring up Thor in his presence again because she doesn’t want Loki tainting what little she knows of Thor. At least he has yet to call her out on being _mortal_. “If I had known that I’d end up locked away from the stars, then I would have brought books or something—anything at all.”

Jane expects Loki to say something else, to keep on arguing with her, but he doesn’t speak. Loki looks at her with an odd, indiscernible look on his face. Jane doesn’t understand what his expression means – another question added to her pile of mysteries – but it’s something that tugs at her heartstrings, tells her to stop complaining. He is no longer trying to play with her; rather, he is being grave.

“You,” he starts, still thinking of what to say next. “You should be thankful that you’re here rather than out there, not having to look into the eyes of that _monster_ …” He stops and looks away. For a while – minutes, perhaps? – Loki doesn’t speak at all; he is only looking at the torch with calculating eyes. Jane considers that her attempt at conversation has failed because he doesn’t show any signs of continuing his though – when she remembers that he had done the same in their previous – and only other – exchange.

Then, without warning, a stack of books she’s never read – or even seen – before materializes beside her. They are all bound in leather; the parchment not too worn even when it is evident that these books have been read – perhaps multiple times – before. When she takes the topmost book into her hands and flips through the pages, her eyes glance over at the calligraphic text and speed-reading through a paragraph confirms the theory that these books aren’t from home – _her_ home.

“Thanks,” she mutters quietly, hoping that the empty room can carry her voice. Jane has so far assumed that Loki _hates_ her because she had been associated with his brother, but if this gesture is anything to go by, then maybe he is at least _tolerant_ of her presence. He doesn’t like her – that much is obvious to her; but Jane thinks that she could have worse companions, as far as unconsented imprisonment goes.

His reply, though late, ends up to be, “Stupid mortal.”

And there it is.

* * *

Jane stays closer to the light so she may read without straining her eyes too much. She had finished the first book – an introductory text to the history of the realms – some time ago and is now on her second reading about  _the_ great elven war. It all reads like fiction to her, which amazes her because this is supposed to be  _actuality_ . Despite the implications that mankind is the most primitive of realms, she considers reading these books to be good mental exercise. Whenever she looks up from the tome, she sees Loki playing with his magic and it distracts her. There are small sparks of gold that shoots off from his hands whenever he does conjuring tricks. They would be barely visible or not at all if it was daytime – but in this dim room, Jane can see even the tiniest slivers of luminescence. She puts down the book and edges closer to the barrier, just beneath their only light source, and spends her time watching Loki.

For a good while, he doesn’t notice at all. There is a furrow on his brow and a frown on his lips as he attempts to manipulate the dimensions of a box he’s conjured up. It grows and shrinks in a repeated cycle between his hands. It disappears and then reappears – with light coming off of his hands – and then he resizes the box once more. It is amusing to Jane because of how concentrated Loki looks.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Jane?” he asks suddenly, eyes still on the cube and Jane is caught unawares. She is sure that he’s never once taken his eyes off of his little toy; how could he have known she was watching him?

“Not as much as you’re enjoying yourself, it would seem,” Jane huffs in response. Her tone is too defensive and she crawls away from the light else he catches the mortified tint of her cheeks from being caught. “Why are you doing that?”

“Any good sorcerer knows that practice is key.”

“And you’re actually enjoying this?”

“You think I am entertained with such a menial trick? This is child’s play – a magus at the basest of levels can do this.”

“Oh, I’m sorry if I don’t have any magical skills in my repertoire.”

“Did you know that I find you more pleasing when you’re trying to be derisive?”

“I don’t care to please you.”

“Ah, that’s true.” When he finally looks up and meets her eyes, it is jolting. Jane doesn’t understand this reaction, but she _has_ to tear her gaze away. Loki just huffs out a breath and when Jane looks back at him, he is playing with the cube once more. “No questions for me this time?”

“None so far.” She clutches onto the book, her nails surely digging into the bound leather. She had multiple questions for him while she was reading the last text; there were terms that she could not find an equal meaning to in her native tongue and so she had to request him to explain. He was more agreeable when he was telling facts instead of playing tricks. But this latest book is more upfront with its narrative, so she really had no qualms.

He grins; his fingers flex and the cube enlarges. “Then why aren’t you reading?”

 _Because you are far more interesting to watch_ , is what she would say if she is to be completely honest. But she would never say such a thing. It is not so much Loki himself that is interesting than it is the magic that jumps from his skin. Magic is simply unexplained science, undiscovered science – hence Jane’s impulse to make sense of it. Despite herself, Jane pushes that thought back into a deep corner of her mind and goes back to reading, eyes set on the text.

Loki, after one last cycle of growing and shrinking, replaces the cube in the ether and sighs.

* * *

A meal is brought – conjured – to them every now and then. They are always identical: a small portion of meat and a small bowl of oats, and they always have to eat with their bare hands. When her first meal arrives, Jane looks over at Loki and expects him to be frowning in distaste with the thought of not having any utensils, but he eats the foodstuff in the most customary way possible that Jane is surprised he isn’t throwing yet another tantrum.  _How long has he been here?_ He could have fallen anytime from between when Thor left and when she attempted to follow – regardless, that is plenty time to be accustomed to the treatment here. She doesn’t know if this is for breakfast or lunch or dinner, but Jane now considers this as her new measurement of days. They are about fifteen meals – and many small quarrels in between – into her imprisonment when the creature she first stumbled upon – The Other – appears again.

“Asgardian.” _It_ – he? Jane still doesn’t know; if she is going by what it sounds like, she’d say it is a _he_ – is on Loki’s side of the cell, standing while Loki is sitting in front of him, legs sprawled suggesting sluggishness. Despite Loki’s blatant disregard for being either respectful or fearful, The Other continues, “You are being summoned.”

“For what purpose?”

“He has decided that you have been here long enough. Your conditioning shall commence.”

The smirk leaves Loki’s face and now he is scowling. “If you think that I will be _His_ mindless servant like you, then you are mistaken, _creature_. You are aware of who I am. I am a _king_ – I serve no one but myself.”

“A king, you say?” the Other taunts. “You’ve no throne here. Nor have you a domain to rule. Here, you are in _His_ dominion. You _will_ serve Him.”

Jane watches this exchange with curious – and fearful – eyes. She doesn’t know who they are referring to. Who is H _e_? The man the creature is faithful to, the man Loki doesn’t like for being in power? Or does Loki not like H _im_ for another reason?  Is _He_ even a man at all or is he alien, similar to The Other? All questions considered, involving herself in this discussion seems like a bad idea. Her instincts tell her to stay quiet, but it becomes harder and harder for her to stay put when Loki’s also trying to put up a fight on his own.

“I will _not_!” he roars, vanishing then reappearing right in front of The Other with a small burst of green and gold light. “Your Lord may think he has all the power of the realms in his hands, but I know what power does to one who is blind to the faults of his ambition. His supremacy is for naught if all He wishes for is to please the Lady Death – and for that, He is _inferior_.” Loki steps back, pushing The Other by its front torso. The Other stumbles and looks livid – if his bared fangs are anything to go by to express what he feels. “My will cannot be bent by a lesser being.”

The Other recomposes himself. “We have our ways, Asgardian – hence the conditioning you will undergo.”

“If you believe there exists a power that may take my will away, then go right ahead and take it! There is no magic in all the realms can give dominion over one’s heart.” Loki mocks, laughing. With every punctuated mark of his sniggering, Jane sees more of the nightmare this scenario is playing out to be. She wants to tell him to stop – to stop with his japing else he gets hurt by The Other. Asgardians may be strong with respect to frail mortals, but she doesn’t know what superhuman feats The Other is capable of as well. “Until then – how should I say this? – _you are but words_.”

Jane has abandoned her small bowl of oats and sets it aside. She doesn’t know why she’s moving, but her feet act on their own accord. The journey to the center of the room seems to take forever; every other step she is stumbling and her mind is in disbelief. She wants to shout at Loki: _shut up, shut up, shut up!_ Loki is provoking The Other – she can see it in the intent that gleams in his eyes, but that is exactly what The Other wants because he is smiling – if one may even call the menacing grin of his a smile.

“I am but words?” The Other mimics Loki’s way of speaking and does a grand gesture with his arm. Out of thin air, a staff of sorts appear in his hands with a stone set on one end – a stone shining a blue brighter than that of the timid light of the torch on the wall. It is entrancing and it has caught the attention of Loki. Now he appears flabbergasted, aghast; with wide eyes, his vision locked on the blue staff. “If I am but words, then what should I make of this?”

Loki shakes his head slowly, his mind wrapping around the thought of the stone’s mere existence. “That is impossible,” he mutters to himself in disbelief. He takes a calculated step further back. “How is this in your possession?”

“It is irrelevant, Asgardian. What matters is that we have such power on our side – and we know where another infinity stone is kept.”

Jane attentively watches Loki’s change in expression. There is a conflict existing within him, the struggle for his desire for power. He hasn’t told much – or said anything directly – of himself, but Jane can easily deduce that Loki has or had an inferiority complex to Thor; she doesn’t need to be a psychologist to know as much. Loki’s issues aside, Jane doesn’t know what an _infinity stone_ is, but she’s heard it twice now and Jane cannot help but think that it is more of a bad thing than good.

_You will bear an infinity stone within you._

Her steps have led her to the unnoticeable barrier and she brings a hand and rests it on the cool surface. “Loki,” she says his name softly, but enough for her to be heard. The two other occupants of the room turn to look at her – and she immediately regrets speaking up. With Loki focused on her, this gives The Other an opening to tap the end of the staff to Loki’s chest and Jane watches with horror as a ray of blue shines its path through Loki’s veins until it settles on his heart and his eyes become an indiscernible dark shade. He falls to his knees and clutches his chest and a panic switch is triggered in Jane’s head as she bangs on the wall between them once more. “Loki!”

“Your resistance does you more harm than good, _Loki_ ,” The Other says, looking down on the god. Then, he holds up the staff and examines the blue stone himself. “Asgardians tend to be more difficult, more _stubborn_ – it is in the nature of your lot to fight, is it not?” He points the shining end to Loki and a blue beam shoots out of the stone, pushing Loki onto the floor. “But you, Loki, son of _Laufey_ , you are not of Asgard; what then does that make of your heart?”

Jane can see Loki unmoving after the impact. Her hand is still on the wall and she is unconsciously pushing at it, as though she should pass through it if she applies enough force. But Jane is weak, she knows this, and she stands there unsure of what to do to _help_ Loki. It isn’t that she necessarily feels for him, but this has opened her eyes to the reality of their situation. They might have been passing time with books and tricks, but they remain prisoners of someone else. Jane thinks this is self-preservation and not compassion – as Loki hasn’t given much reason for her to be completely sympathetic with him – and there is the fear as she imagines herself in his place.

The Other faces her and the edges of his mouth creep up in a wicked smirk. “You are quite eager, Midgardian. Don’t worry, your time will come soon enough.”

With a flash of brilliant and blinding light, the two disappear and Jane is alone in the cell for the first time.


	3. Sing for Absolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I TOLD MYSELF I WOULD UPDATE _haunted_ FIRST. But I ended up finishing this one before the other, so here it is. I'm falling in love with this story more and more.

“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”  
Sarah Williams

* * *

 The specks burnt onto her retina from the dazzling flash of light fade only after she blinks them away. When she returns to what she christened as her reading corner, she notices that Loki’s books are gone. It is only now that it occurs to her how _lonely_ she is. It is only now that she sees the shadows creep with every flicker of the dim light; the mass of night that which surrounds her. Jane’s never been afraid of the dark – she had even prided herself over it as a child who didn’t need to be reassured by her parents – but there is a different kind of fear washing over her being now. She’s never been afraid of the dark, yes, but she’s always dreaded loneliness. The loss of her parents, the inattention of her peers; every failed relationship she’s ever been in – Jane’s always the one being left behind; and the thought of ending up with nobody at all has given her nightmares every now and then. It had been even worse whenever she thought of Thor. And now that Loki, who had kept her sane for two weeks – in her new system of counting days – had left her alone, Jane finds herself fearful.

Jane sits by the light and wonders how Loki had done it, how he’d kept himself sane – as far as she can tell, anyway – in the company of no one else. She tries to imagine Loki’s figure still there, sitting in his favorite spot, in his favorite way. She tries to imagine the motion of him pulling up the corners of his mouth into a smirk that taunts her, invites her to a conversation she had told herself over and over again to not engage in because all it does is frustrate her. It frustrates her; it aggravates and it invigorates and Jane realizes that Loki’s presence was what livens the otherwise dreadful cell.

She doesn’t want to imagine what it is exactly he’s going through right now, his _conditioning_ – whatever that had meant, it sounds terrifying. Jane knows a lot, sure, but now that she’s beyond earth it has become clear to her that her understanding of how the universe works is so meager; and Loki, despite all his past grievances and his supposed dislike of her, had given her a way to see more of the universe from the confines of their prison.

The flames flicker once more and she takes this as a reminder of time passing. She returns to the other end of her half of the cell, where a small cot lay on the floor. Unlike her, Loki barely slept – he was always aware whenever she roused from her slumber. Closing her eyes, Jane calms herself with the thought of Loki being there when she wakes up.

* * *

Loki isn’t there, and Jane skips out on her meals – it doesn’t matter how many days pass. Without Loki, it’s all the same to her. She doesn’t want to _think_ because it could only make her more despondent, more desperate to leave. It had been easy to be optimistic with Loki around, but now it is easier for the feeling of helplessness to keep crossing her mind.

So instead, she sleeps, and in her dreams, Thor is still waiting for her in Asgard. In her dreams, everything goes right: her invention works and she lands in Asgard, not having to hold on to its fringes. She remembers the sight of the long bridge that led to the city itself, the splendor of its colors reflective of the stars around it; the golden towers gleaming as though a sun in itself, the mountains beyond the citadel – Jane pictures these and builds a world of her own, though she is still aware that it is merely a vision in her head. She wonders at the possible differences of her version of Asgard to the realm of the gods in actuality. Her dreams may vary in its architecture, but one thing remains constant: Thor. He is wearing his customary attire, with armor, arms bare, and his cape of scarlet bellowing behind him. He is always there to welcome her, to tour her around his home, to introduce her to his family and friends. In her dreams, she meets his parents for the first time and is reacquainted with the four warriors that had helped him save her old town – but Loki is never there in the Asgard of her dreams.

For some reason, Jane can’t imagine Loki anywhere else but in the darkness with her. She cannot place Loki in the lush sceneries of Asgard – it is as though he doesn’t _belong._ The first attempt she made at reconstructing his image with that of the other realm, it had felt so terribly _wrong_ that she had woken up with a chill. She tries to remember herself in the setting of her old home, back in her laboratory, working tirelessly with Erik and Darcy coming by to help whenever she could – but even that too had proved difficult for her. Her travel has disjointed her with the landscape of her past – or perhaps it is just the effect of being confined in this room that has made her forget where she used to be. She tries to remember light, the radiance of the sun, but all she sees in her mind now is a blue flicker off a torch on the wall.

When she wakes up, she is always disappointed as there is no sign of Loki. Jane doesn’t know what it is she’s feeling – she doesn’t exactly _care_ for him, but at the same time she does. There is a conflict within her as she knows that the very same Loki she’s come to know is the same Loki who had tried to kill his brother back on earth. She doesn’t want to _hate_ him – he’s done nothing to her personally that would merit such animosity from her. With the alien robot that had almost destroyed her town, Loki’s beef had been with Thor; they were all just bystanders who had been caught between the crossfire of their feud. Jane understands as much now. Despite that, she wishes she has a reason to at least dislike him. Jane thinks that detesting him for some reason – any reason at all – would be an easier pill for her to swallow compared to this confusion.

Jane falls asleep once more, contemplating on what Loki is supposed to mean to her – if he’s supposed to mean anything at all. Her following dreams are now of him, of his wicked grin, of his bemused laughter; of the way he has become synonymous with the opposite of the feeling of loneliness.

* * *

Her eyes are bleary as she stirs, but despite this handicap, her blurred vision grants her sight of his shadow from across the room, occupying the space of his cell which the light couldn't fully reach – to this, she rises in attention.

“Loki,” she says, blinking a few times to make sure that he’s actually there and it is not her mind playing tricks on her as she descends upon the path of madness in her isolation. A wave of relief washes over her and it is more like a tsunami in the way it affects her. “You’re…” she says, and stops to start over. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

He is silent for a few heartbeats, lips most likely pursed into a frown at her upfront question. Then, he answers, in a tone much more guttural than usual, “I hadn’t wished to.”

Now that she is more awake, more aware of his presence, she easily picks up on the strain of his voice; but she cannot see his face, cannot tell if there are cuts and bruises marring his skin, making him hide in the shadows. Regardless, Jane feels a weight on him now that reminds her where he has been all this time, what he has been undergoing while she has been despairing. She wishes to ask him of it out of curiosity and not necessarily because she _cared_ ; but to do so would be intrusive, insensitive; and it would not only risk whatever fragile truce they had, but also his stable front.

"Are you really here?" she asks, more for herself than for him to confirm. She can feel tears welling in her eyes as she recognizes the sincerity in her words, “I had started to worry you’d never return.”

“And leave you to rot in this dreadful place by yourself?” Jane could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "You should learn to appreciate these four walls, Jane. They're the difference of safety and danger."

Jane isn't sure if he can see her, but she shakes her head at his words anyway. "It's all the same. If we're here, that means we're his prisoners. He – whoever the hell he is – will summon us when he wishes because we're his play-toys."

She hears a rustle as Loki shifts. The way he laughs now reminds her of that of villains, of ill intentions. Despite the threat of it, Jane has to admit to herself that she had missed this. She had missed _him_. "Between the two of us, _I_ am his play-toy, Jane. It is my knowledge which he needs, and if he truly wished it, he could do away with me and seek the knowledge elsewhere. But you – oh, Jane, you are more unique in this universe than you can comprehend.  He would not risk endangering you. Why else do you think there exists another wall which separates us?"

"Because female and male prisoners are always segregated?"

Loki laughs at her assumption. "You truly believe that he would discriminate on such a shallow basis? Midgardians are so primitive.”

Jane ignores his remarks on her race. "I don't even know who _he_ is."

"His name is Thanos," Loki explains. "A warlord who brings conflagrations to worlds, annihilating everyone and everything so he may offer their life-force to his beloved Mistress Death. It is his way of courting her, but she despises him. He takes this as a challenge and sacrifices more blood for her in hopes of one day no longer being spurned."

She tries to wrap her mind around his concise briefing. "He's _insane._ "

"He was but lore to us in Asgard – The Mad Titan, they called him in whispers. The very first story I heard of him was that he had murdered his family and slaughtered the rest of his race as well."

"He is a monster."

Loki's comment sounds scornful. "To the Aesir, that distinction belong to those from Jotunheim."

Jane searches for his figure in the darkness, but he remains one with the shadows on the other side. From her readings, she doesn’t see how the Jotnar could be considered monsters – rather, they seem to be the ones who were oppressed; but Jane doesn’t wish to argue on that with him presently. She imagines Darcy being a better person to debate intergalactic politics with Loki. Nonetheless, there is a tremor now as she speaks, "What does he want from me?"

"What does anyone truly want? He wants your power, Jane. He needs you to hold an infinity stone – which one, we’ve yet to know, but just the fact that you, a mere mortal, have the capacity to carry one means everything."

"None of the books you've given me mentions an infinity stone."

"Because that knowledge isn't meant to be shared with just anyone. Not even to scholars like you. Their existence in the universe is a well-guarded secret.”

“But you know it.”

“Unlike Thor whom you idolize, I’m not an idiot.”

Jane could only take a deep breath. This is Loki’s first time mentioning Thor since their first conversation. She’s never brought him up out of consideration for whatever issues Loki has with him, so this surprises her.

“You two are so different,” she muses, believing the truth of it. There is another ache in her heart as she thinks of the blond god who’s yet to save her – to save _them_. “Almost like day and night.”

She expects him to follow up with something clever, something amusing, something that would make their predicament slightly better – but Loki says nothing. Only his loud exhalations reaches her ears. At first, his labored breaths worry Jane because it sounds like he is still in pain, like a wounded animal which attempts to crawl back to safety. If he is truly hurting, Loki does not tell her. She doesn’t know if he has the capacity to carry on with conversation, but just the fact of his presence is enough to placate her. She’s yet to see his face, but even then, she no longer feels the anxiety in the pit of her stomach.

Eventually, the hums of his breathing lull her back to sleep.

* * *

It is bright – much brighter than ever before – when Jane wakes up. The flame of the torch on the wall is now burning an intense white and it is stronger, larger; it illuminates the entirety of the room. It takes a while for Jane to adjust to the vividness of the light. She had been in darkness for so long that it is almost painful for her to open her eyes. In due time, she is able to see clearly without struggle. It is then that she looks over to Loki’s side of the cell to check if he’s still there – and he is, but he _isn’t_.

Loki is sitting in the farthest corner of his cell – as far away from the light as he could get. She remembers him being shrouded in the darkness before she went to sleep; but now that the room is flooded with radiance, he no longer has shadows in which to hide. Jane sees him; though he is in a form she’s never seen before – at least, not in real life anyway. His former pallor has been tainted a blue hue, protruded markings covering his flesh. His fists are curled tightly; when he extends his hands, she sees claws – sharp and severe – and they move to clutch the ground beside him. His long, dark tresses remain and curl away from his face; his eyes glow a deep, dangerous red as he stares at her. His mouth is twisted in a menacing grin – though it appears to Jane that he is scowling at himself and not at her.

“Now you see me, Jane,” he growls, baring his teeth at her. “Now you see the monster you’re trapped with; the monster you’ve been befriending all the while.”

Jane, now more conscious than she’s ever been in this prison, shakes her head in disbelief. Her legs work by themselves and she finds herself walking to the center of the room. She has wondered why her muscles haven’t atrophied yet despite all the disuse, but she shrugs it off as magic – this, on the other hand, she knows she is doing out of sheer will. She is determined to come closer to Loki; as close as the boundary could permit anyway. She walks and walks and _walks_ until she bumps into the invisible wall. Her hands slam on the interface; her eyes remain fixed on Loki’s figure.

“Did he hurt you?” she whispers first; then, brasher, “Did he hurt you?”

If she is confused by her own tears, Loki is stunned at the sight of them.

“What?” he asks back, his foreboding persona receding. A myriad of emotions flashes on his face as he registers Jane’s question – but it settles on being flustered. “No, he had not.”

She feels relieved – even more so than when he had returned. Still, she asks, “What did he do to you?”

Loki is reluctant to share to her – that much is evident from the crease forming between his brows, just below the circular outline of a mark on his forehead. He clicks his tongue before speaking in a slow manner, “He had tried to show me the possibilities of my future, the potential of his power in my control.”

“And then?”

“I refused and told him that his offer was a mere illusion, as grand as he tried to make it in order to entice me.” Loki stopped his narration and began quivering, his shoulders shaking as he centered his rage. “He then told me that I myself was living in delusion – he had used the mind stone and willed me to show my true self, this _monstrous_ thing—”

“No, Loki,” Jane says, unwittingly mimicking Odin’s last words to him. Loki turns to her, ready to direct his fury towards her; because that look of pity in her eyes is the same that Odin had held right before Loki had let go of Thor’s grasp, because she is reminding him of the betrayal of his family. His anger gains traction with every heartbeat, but she beats him to speaking. “Is this why you hid from me before? How can you see yourself as a monster?”

“How can you not?” he snaps, seething; standing on his legs in one swift motion and stalking his way to meet her at the middle. He bangs on the wall between them with one fist, rattling the transparent solid with the force of his thump; Jane does not even flinch. “Do you not see me for the beast that I truly am beneath the guise of Aesir flesh? Do you not see the horrid frontage of this form? Look at me, Jane, and tell me you do not fear me. _Look at me_!”

Jane drops her hands to her sides. Despite Loki’s temper, she remains uncannily calm. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Then you are a fool.”

“I’m not blind,” she refutes, tugging the sides of her lips upward in an awkward grimace. “I can see you, Loki. You aren’t a monster.”

His wrath dwindles at the sight of Jane’s smile; how it speaks the language of comfort and reassurance without need for verses. Jane only speaks the truth of her mind; she would not dare lie to him. There is an intensity in her gaze that shows her candor, her misplaced faith in him; and for the first time, Loki sees – actually _sees_ – Jane as well, and wants to believe in her words more desperately than ever.


	4. Explorers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and the comments! They inspire me to go on, really. I'm always insecure of the reaction of readers to my writing, but you guys seem to be taking to this story well enough! I hope I keep your intrigue. :)
> 
> Moving on, this chapter is a bit of a filler because there will be heavier parts of the story up ahead. I'm aiming to finish this in ten chapters, so since we're almost halfway there, the fun begins! This chapter focuses on building the relationship between Loki and Jane, so if you find their characterizations here questionable... well, we'll see. I'm trying to keep them close to how they are portrayed, but with differences based on what I've put them through so far. If you have qualms, hit me up! Let's argue about it and I will most probably concede, ha ha.
> 
> And as always, I hope you guys enjoy!

“Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.”  
Marie Curie

* * *

Jane can swear it is not empathy or compassion she feels as she reaches out to him on what she can assume to be one of his darkest hours. She pretends that nothing is gnawing at her insides at the sight of his tears running over the slope of his cheeks. Jane doesn’t want to care, because it  _complicates_ things. Jane doesn’t like complicated when it comes to social interactions. She’s long learned that she cannot treat other people as problems she’d find in a textbook, and Loki – as she’s seen so far – is one of the most complex cases she’s encountered.

Her back is facing him now as she leans on the wall between them. He’s made it clear that he wishes her not to see him in this form, even though Jane doesn’t mind him this way – blue skin and all – because she _knows_ Loki’s still the same snarky bastard underneath whatever visage, and she wishes so badly that he could understand that it is all the same to her, that it does not matter what appearance he has put on. She sees him as a child so fascinated with the universe that it has led him to amass the knowledge he now has. She sees within Loki a kindred spirit, the same passion for learning and unraveling the mysteries of science – or magic, in his case. She knows the feeling of being an outcast because of her interests. She understands him to a certain degree, despite not knowing the full context of his grievances. Jane keeps telling herself that she doesn’t care, but Loki makes it hard for her to be indifferent.

Loki’s whimpers are soft; his breathing, shallow, and Jane is filled with the urge to comfort him. She doesn’t have much friends – or any at all, Darcy would argue – but Jane can be very supportive of those who truly matter to her. She’s always had a weak spot for fragile things, too; had a sense of responsibility over broken things within her vicinity. It is the very same instinct that had driven her to help Thor out. Now, it is telling her to do the same with Loki. What is it with the two brothers and their identity crises, their need for someone to reassure them of their worth?

“You must forgive me, Jane,” she hears Loki say, his voice clipped but less severe than before. “For my earlier outburst. It was uncalled for.”

“It’s alright,” she answers back sheepishly. To her, Loki’s breakdown isn’t the first she’s witnessed; she’s had enough fill of those from her time in graduate studies. “Can I turn around now?”

“You may.”

When Jane turns around to see him fully, she sees he’s recomposed himself. Loki now stands directly in front of her, his shoulders pulled back and his chin raised – as prim as she imagines he was groomed to be. It is their first time to be _this_ close to each other and Jane notices how he towers over her just as Thor had, how small she is compared to his lithe and godly frame. She looks up while he stares down at her with a certain culpability on the surface of his enflamed eyes. It’s a look that she’s never seen on him before, and she decides she much prefers it when he is teasing her and his eyes glint with mischief and trouble – when he’s _happy_.

“You are not afraid of me,” he repeats her previous words carefully, his eyes searching.

“I don’t see any reason for me to be scared.”

“I am dangerous, Jane.”

“I think you’re still dangerous regardless of what form you take. As long as you have control over your actions, then I don’t feel like you’re a threat. You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Oh? How are you so certain?”

“I think I make for good company,” she jokes, though it is tasteless in her mouth. “Anyway, do you think you can go back to your old self? Not that I mind – by now you should know that I really don’t – but it’s pretty obvious that it’s taking a toll on your psyche.”

Loki frowns and his nose scrunches, his forehead creases. “I don’t know. This is the doing of Thanos; it is his will. He’s disallowed me from using the magic that will allow me to revert my appearance.”

“He did this with that blue glowing stick?”

“Indeed. Within it is an infinity stone that can bend the will of men, twist their hearts and render them insensible to their own thoughts.”

“But you’re thinking and acting on your own right now.”

“I’m not so much a coward or weakling as to not fight his control,” Loki says. “I am only capable because he had not harnessed its full power for use on me. It will destroy my mind, and he is aware that the knowledge he requires is stored within it. I would not be of use to him if he did so.”

The mention of its abilities reminds Jane of her own prophesy with another infinity stone. She takes a step back from Loki and looks away. With her limited knowledge on the subject, she could not even formulate a hypothesis on what could happen to her or how she would be able to handle such an object to begin with. As if sensing her sudden anxiety, Loki tells her what he knows of it.

“The infinity stones are made of what were singularities which pre-date the universe itself: space, time, reality, power, mind and soul. These were forged by the cosmic beings who created everything as it is. Contained in those stones are great power, Jane; unparalleled by nothing else in this universe. It cannot be held by just anybody. Not even Thanos is capable of wielding one without repercussion.”

If Loki’s intent was to quell her hesitation, then he has failed rather spectacularly. Instead, his explanation has made her more aware of the gravity of what is to come for her. “But I’m not special in any way,” she tells herself. “I’m insignificant. I’m no one.”

“Perhaps you are not what you believe?” Loki theorizes and adds bitterly, “It seems to be a common enough occurrence. It is possible your parents have lied to you as well.”

“No, no; I am a hundred percent human, thank you very much,” she answers, shaking her head and returning her gaze to him. He hasn’t budged at all and he is still standing regally, his posture contrasting the tatters of his clothing. “Maybe falling into deep space like I did exposed me to something. Low-level radiation, perhaps? Enough to alter my own composition to become a host of sorts or whatever to an infinity stone.”

“Perhaps,” Loki says after thinking through her words. “I cannot ascertain anything for you as I have no clue as to where these stones are kept. Except for the mind stone, which is in Thanos’ possession. The others are scattered around the universe. It is tasking for one to locate them all, which is why Thanos recruits others to do his bidding.”

“And what do they get in return?”

“Whatever it is which pleases them.”

“And what would you ask for, should he use you?”

“I don’t know what I want, Jane,” Loki answers her, his tone droll. “If I am to allow myself to be vindictive, I would say that I want Odin on his knees and I be the one to swing the axe. Thor would be there to witness this, of course, as well as the fools he has for companions and the rest of the horrid court. I want Asgard to fall into chaos with the witless oaf you adore so much as King. The rest of the realms in Yggdrasil would follow and pandemonium would ensue in every corner of the universe.”

“That’s terrible.”

“I thought we’ve established that I am a terrible person.”

“Hey,” Jane cries, stepping forward once more and placing her hand on the wall; over his chest if nothing separated them. “You’re not so bad. I mean, I used to want to murder the doctors that were on my thesis panel. Like, I would have vivid dreams of just throwing them into the void with the Einstein-Rosen bridge I eventually proved to be true.”

At her words, Loki smiles for the first time since she’s seen him in this new light.

* * *

He conjures up his books and lends them to her again after explaining how they had disappeared along with him when the Other took him away. Before she resigns to her old reading post, she asks if he could teach her his tricks – to which he laughs her suggestion off. Indignant, Jane now continues browsing through the chapter of the book she last had in her grasp. Her eyes remain fixed on the text, not bothering to look up once and notice whatever Loki is doing on his side of the room.

At least, Jane thinks, he isn’t being broody anymore. She is scared that he would relapse and become depressed due to his still unchanged form, but Loki doesn’t sound like he’s throwing a tantrum. She can hear him speaking words of enchantment – what spell he is casting, Jane wouldn’t know. She attempts to convince herself that she doesn’t care, but she _does_ want to know – except that she’s not going to entertain her curiosity out of spite of his dismissal. And to think that she had been so kind to him earlier!

“You should be careful not to rip those pages out, Jane,” Loki calls out to her and she reluctantly looks up just in time to see him conjure up a bunch of confetti over his head. The grin on his face is irritating and she would slap it off of his face if she could. At least he’s back to normal, Jane tells herself; it’s better that he’s up to his old ways than whatever it was that took over him when she woke up. “Those tomes are thousands of years old. They are on an indefinite loan from the great library of Asgard, and the scholars there do not take lightly any form of damage to their texts.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” she retorts, glaring at him with a burning intensity in her gaze before going back to the book. “Stupid god.”

“I heard that.”

“Good. That means I don’t want you bothering me while I’m reading.”

“Feisty!” he laughs, but she still ignores him. “You’re really something, aren’t you, Jane? I can see now why my brother enjoyed your presence.”

At the mention of Thor, Jane finally closes her book. She misses the other god, yes, but being with Loki for longer than three days has put perspective into her encounter with Thor. What little knowledge she has on Thor is nothing as Loki has known him for thousands of years, has seen his faults more than she’s seen his humanity. When she looks up at him, she expects him to be scowling – like he usually is when Thor is involved in a discussion – but instead his eyes look speculative, appreciative.

“You had changed him, Jane,” he starts before she can interject. “When he returned to Asgard, he was different.”

“Well, I imagine he had underwent a life-changing experience. I think it might have been his brother trying to kill him.”

“No, no; I’ve tried to kill him countless times before, just not with the same level of malevolence as you had witnessed.”

“Are you trying to be reassuring? Because I don’t think anything you just said puts your actions in a better light.”

“I’m trying to tell you that he was changed even before I sent the Destroyer to Midgard.” Loki says with a glower, dismayed at the recollection of his failure. He shakes his head before continuing, “Only _you_ know what happened to Thor when he fell to Midgard, Jane. You must tell me what it was that you did.”

Jane thinks for a while. She contemplates on what details to put when she narrates to Loki the happenings in her home while Thor was with them. Would she tell Loki of how she had almost run him over?  Or his outburst at the hospital? Or his comical reactions to the difference in their customs? Or perhaps she should speak of something that seems to be of interest, even to her; of how Thor had stormed into the base of operations of a government agency to retrieve his weapon, only to fail and come out depressed at the end of his attempt. Jane doesn’t know what had happened between the time he left her waiting at the side before Eric came to help get him out, but Jane knows that whatever transpired in that time is what truly brought out a change in Thor. But if Loki is asking for what she thought her part in his transformation was, then she’d have to be honest to herself: she had only seen Thor as human. Someone with infinite access to what she’s dreamt of for the most part of her life, yes; but human, nonetheless.

She doesn’t say this. Instead she addresses him, “Why should I tell you?”

Loki’s stares at her for an indefinite period of time with a look Jane can only describe as incisive, as though he is looking right through her. Jane avoids his penetrative gaze and looks back to the text, but what he says next makes her dumbstruck enough to lose her composure.

“I fear you are changing me as well.”

* * *

They resume their previous routine of reading, practicing and bantering as though Loki had never left. However, there is a difference in the atmosphere around them. Whatever apprehensions Loki used to have with her is gone. Now he is more open and at ease; engaging her in actual civilized conversation rather than trying to incite reactions out of her. Jane still yearns to be free to roam the stars of her own free will, but being with Loki allows her another perspective. Compared to Thor, he is much more meticulous when it comes to explaining the cosmology of their universe. He is knowledgeable – and surprisingly patient – enough to answer every question she has – and she has a multitude of them; but what truly astounds Jane is how Loki imparts his understanding of the universe. Tendrils of his magic cover the entirety of the walls – the floor and ceiling included – and every crevice of their cell is projected with galaxies, specks and swirls of white and blue against the vast darkness of space. When she reaches out, the images of the stars feel  _real_ beneath her touch. They move along with her gesticulations and she feels like a child in a museum, eagerly toying with the interactive display. Jane vaguely remembers the same sight of her surroundings when she had fallen, but nothing of this great detail. Everything is new to her, so she doesn’t hold back on her barrage of inquiries.

“This is _amazing_ ,” Jane says in wonder, holding a constellation in her hands. “I’ve never seen anything like this. I mean, I had, but not without thinking that I’m going to die.”

“It’s not the same as being among the starways itself,” Loki says with a frown. He is standing next to her – or at least, his projection is – but he stands at a distance, careful not to touch else the illusion of his company shatter. He guides her around, directing her in a way that she would not reach the end of the room, changing the view when necessary. “The observatory in Asgard has a room just like this. The make-up of what you see is actual stardust.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jane remarks before walking towards the sight of familiar moons. “I had seen these. They were above me when I fell here.”

“That’s because we are here,” Loki points to a mass of stone floating like an asteroid without orbit. “Somewhere, hidden away; but we are here.”

“We are here,” Jane repeats. “Nowhere near where I thought I’d be.” Loki has an inquisitive look on his face, and Jane begins to narrate, “After Thor left earth, I became desperate to be reunited with him. I just really needed to know that it was all true, that it was possible for me to recreate the bridge, the Bi-Frost. I had enough data, and in theory I could have just plugged in the needed variables and I would have been brought straight to Asgard, to Thor. And then I tried it out and it actually worked, and I had thought that I had finally done it.”

“But you are here.”

“But I am here,” Jane continues. “I caught a glimpse of Asgard, only to come short. The energy must have run out or something.”

Loki nodded at her story appreciatively, impressed. “You solely built the machination which you used to transport yourself?”

“I had a good deal of help from my mentor. His name’s Erik Selvig, and he’s one of the greatest people I know.” Jane’s smile is wistful as she wonders what Erik could be doing now. She imagines he’s drinking away his troubled thoughts on what could be her presumed demise. How long has it been since she left earth, and how long is a day in earth compared to a day here? “If he believed in it himself, I think he could have done it all on his own; but he doesn’t. He’s just helping me out, and it was thanks to him that my device even worked.”

“It was my mother who had taught me magic,” Loki opens up after Jane. “I told her that I found Thor’s means of gratification to be brutal. He would fight needlessly and shed blood, seek out glories of battle. Mother, however, said that as a prince, I had to learn how to fight to protect Asgard. Her words initially disheartened me, and I thought I would have to resign to training alongside Thor, but she stopped me and told me that there were other ways for me to fight. Thus began my apprenticeship under her tutelage.”

Loki’s story makes Jane realize that she has no inkling of who Thor really is. She cannot imagine who he had been before she had met him. “What did Thor make of it?”

 “He had thrown a tantrum and challenged me to a duel,” Loki laughs, his red eyes gleaming with a little merriment. “I had defeated him with what little I had learned. He eventually came around and saw the merits of my craft after I had saved him from multiple counts of near-death.”

“And yet you tried to kill him.”

“I imagine you would, too, if you knew him even half as well as I do. Tell me, Jane, have you any siblings?”

“No,” Jane answers.

“Then you would not understand,” Loki finally says with a shake of his head. He turns his head and points toward another cluster of stars and he shifts the conversation by explaining the culture of the inhabitants of that solar system.  Jane nods dumbly at his words, her mind barely registering the knowledge he offers her, because she is still thinking about how she doesn’t comprehend Loki’s relationship with Thor at all.

But if it is only Loki by himself, Jane believes she’s learning to.


	5. The Handler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, new chapter and new characters! If you thought that last chapter was a bit on the soft side, this one's a bit more rough. Enjoy!
> 
> Note: I don't have a beta, so it's not yet edited as of posting. If you spot errors, help a gal out!

"My solitude doesn’t depend on the presence or absence of people; on the contrary, I hate who steals my solitude without, in exchange, offering me true company."   
Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

It has been six days since Loki’s return and despite themselves, Loki and Jane are building a good rapport between one another. She doesn’t know what brings about Loki’s frequent shifts in mood, but she can now tell the signs he shows when he doesn’t want to be bothered. In those moments, he has a faraway look in his eyes that remind her of when Thor spoke of the stars, of Asgard. She assumes Loki is being introspective and thinks of home and his family; of things that shouldn’t concern her at all. She understands – she does that just as often – but still she wishes that she could dig in deeper and learn more of him, of his circumstance. Loki is intriguing by himself and Jane has always loved mysteries. Not that she thinks he’s one for solving, but she just wants to know more of who she is with because despite their friendliness and ease with each other, it still feels like Loki is a stranger.

“Jane,” Loki calls out to her and her mind drifts back to their present conversation. He is giving her the look which means to say that he thinks she is being petty in one way. “Pay attention.”

“I _am_ ,” she says defensively before motioning to the illusion in front of her. “Xandar is this blue planet right here, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“And the people here, the Xandarians – they’re like me? They’re humans?”

“Not quite. They’re Xandarians.”

“That’s great help.”

Loki rolls his eyes at her. “It is the same way that Asgardians are indistinguishable should they hide in a crowd of mortals. You had thought Thor to be human before he revealed himself to be different, had you not?”

“Yeah, but you guys are all like, six feet tall and speak like you’re from another century. You stand out without intending to.”

“You miss the point, Jane,” Loki remarks sternly before giving a light chuckle. “Stop leading our discussion astray. We were talking about their war with the Kree Empire, weren’t we?”

Jane nods, though the motion is hesitant, as she casts her gaze away from the planet and back to Loki. His blue face fills her vision and the gentleness of his look is contrasted by the inherent intensity of the red of his eyes. It is nowhere near what her first idea of _alien_ was, but Jane doesn’t see him as foreign anymore. To her, he is simply _there_ ; familiar.

“Let’s talk about something else,” she suggests, her words not being thoroughly thought through. “I love the stars, I do; I love everything you’ve been telling me about them. But I want to know more about you, too.”

Her proposition catches Loki off-guard. There is hesitation in how his breath has hitched, apprehension in the stance he takes. Jane feels the slightest of regret from giving the idea, but she stands firm in her choice to ask more of _him_ , of Loki.

“What is it you wish to know?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“You wish to make this _personal_ , Jane?”

“I guess.” She doesn’t understand why he’s being fussy. They’ve been stuck together for quite a while now and Jane thinks they’re past personal boundaries, especially after the debacle of his change in form. Plus he’s already mentioned his family a few times during their discourses. “I just want to know the life you’ve lived so far. You’ve gone through more years than any human can ask for. I’m sure you have your version of something like Thor’s adventures—”

“No!” he barks at her, standing taller than before and making her feel stunted, intimidated. “You want stories, Jane? You want tales of grandeur to win you over, to convince yourself of what so little goodness you see in my nature? Do not liken me to Thor, who glorifies every inconsequential and idiotic pursuit of his! What can I tell you when I myself know nothing but versions of a lie?”

“It’s nothing like that! I want to know you because I already care for you, Loki—”

“You shouldn’t,” he interjects harshly. “If you believe that I’d return the same gesture over _sentiment_ , then you are mistaken. I care for no one but myself.”

“You’re lying,” Jane contests. “You do care; if not for me, then at least for your family—”

“They are not my family!” Loki snaps, the severity of his tone making her take a step away from him. She knows that he cannot – _will not_ – hurt her, but she still keeps her distance as a precaution.  “And neither do I care what happens to you! You can stay entrapped here for the rest of your life and it would make not a minute difference to me—”

Before Jane knows what she’s doing, her hand is raised, poised to assault him. It is emotion, such ire that leads her to striking out; but Loki’s reflexes act and he catches her wrist before she can actually hit him. The physical interaction causes the illusion to shatter and Loki’s projection fades away with small sparks of gold. Their background of stars disappear as well and Jane has to blink multiple times to adjust to the light of their prison. It is only after she opens her eyes again does she realize that tears are present on the sides of her face.

“Oh, Jane,” Loki’s voice is soft but just as cruel. He is sitting on his side of the room – in the same place, in the same way as she remembers him to be. The laughter that echoes from his throat hurts her more than she expects it to. “You are a fool to sentiment. You think that because I teach you of the cosmos, it means you _matter_?”

She ignores his scathing remarks and trudges to her cot, her mind only thinking _Loki lies_. It is what he does. He lies to cover his own insecurities and that thought is the only comfort Jane has as she forces herself to sleep through Loki’s taunts. There goes the thought of them becoming friends.

* * *

When Jane wakes up, Loki is no longer there. She doesn’t know what feeling overcomes her first, but as her thoughts finally settle, panic sets in. While she attempts to make sense of her emotions, a flash of light erupts right in front of her and a familiar figure appears.

“He summons you, mortal,” The Other says, grabbing her wrist before Jane can fight back his hold. “You shall be respectful in His presence.”

He transports them away with yet another burst of luminescence. Once they arrive back to the crater-filled site Jane landed upon, she takes a deep breath. There is something that relieves her, the openness of the setting she is in. Jane looks up and sees the very same skyscape that she had seen before, that Loki recreated with his stardust. The moons, the galaxies, the still ascending supernova at the far end of the heavens above – how long has it been since she’s seen all these in person? How long has it been since she opened her bridge, since she fell from the skies?

The Other drags her as Jane feels unstable herself, her legs wobbly and uncooperative. She notes that the terrain here is different than that of the room; the gravity, all wrong. They climb up a set of stairs until they reach a landing where a throne more than twice her size floats across them. Upon it is another creature in purple skin, much larger than Loki or The Other, wearing golden armor that makes him appear even more menacing. Her initial alarm intensifies and Jane pulls back, only to be pushed onto her knees.

“I had told you not to hurt her,” it – _he_ – roars, his voice low and commanding, reverberating despite nothing in their exposed surrounding to rebound the sound. “These mortals are so... _fragile_. What use is she if she is dead?”

Her eyes are trained on the creature before her and despite her previous anger, she wishes Loki is with her right now. He’d tell her what to do, what to feel; he’d tell her to remain calm – or something, she doesn’t _know_. All Jane senses is her own terror, frissons of fear; the goosebumps rises on her skin as the temperature around her drops and dread pools in her stomach – the creature has such an effect.

“Rise!” she hears The Other hisses at her, all bloody teeth. Her knees remain planted on the ground; Jane thinks it is better that way as if she is standing, she’d most likely fall down anyway. “Show your respect to the great Thanos!”

“It is fine,” the creature – _Thanos_ – says, causing The Other to back down. As he speaks, his eyes glow a sinister blue and Jane suppresses another shudder from her fright. “As I have said, mortals are weak. I understand her difficulty, given her time in the dungeons hasn’t been too accommodating. Jane Foster,” he addresses her now. “I heard you possess a talent, unique and unprecedented by your race. My servant has foreseen as much.”

She nods without thinking. She hears his words, but at the same time she doesn’t. In her mind are instead Loki’s warnings: _You should learn to appreciate these four walls, Jane. They're the difference of safety and danger._ And presently all Jane could sense is the peril she is in as she sits before who Loki calls The Mad Titan, the _monster_.

“And I will require your service. Bring me the infinity stone which you will one day hold and I will grant you whatsoever it is you desire.”

What Jane wants is _to go home_ , to be back in her small bunker at the desert, to be running trials in her laboratory. Before she can speak her thoughts, though, another voice interrupts. This voice is pitched higher yet modulated. Jane looks to the other end of the land where another figure leans on one of the pillars. The curved figure, a female, stands straight and saunters to a spot below the throne, kneeling for a second before rising.

“Father,” she says. “For her to be of use to you, she must first prove her loyalty. Who is to say that she would not run away with the stone herself and use the power against your will?”

Thanos turns to the direction of the newcomer and a frown spreads on his wide lips. “Nebula, why are you not with your sister?”

“I got tired of Loki’s wailing,” she answers with a shrug. Now far away from the shadow, Jane can see more of the other woman. She is tall and lean, and dark blue for the most part – metal encases her arm and bits of her face; not like armor, but as though it is a layer of skin. When she looks at Jane, it is predatory, territorial – so far everyone Jane’s met so far seems to be eager to kill her in one way or another and this new creature is no exception. “I could train her, Father; teach her our ways, make her one of our own.”

“You wish to make a warrior out of her?”

“I will make her strong for you,” Nebula says. “Let me have her, Father; let her become your weapon. When I am through with her, she shall possess the power fit for the first Terran to bear an infinity stone; she shall be just as devoted to our cause and will have no reason to betray you.”

Thanos seems to be considering it, even though the expression on his face as his daughter spoke is that of boredom.

“She does remind me of you when I first took you in,” Thanos says – to which Nebula grimaces. Jane senses the slightest of animosity from Nebula which Thanos is oblivious to. “Weak, afraid, _pathetic_. But perhaps Jane Foster needs guidance as you once had. Go, Nebula; I will allow your request. Teach her what she needs to be in my service.”

“Yes, Father.” Nebula bends her head down and walks to Jane, holding the mortal by the arm and pulling her up on her feet. Jane doesn’t expect the other female to be so forceful and so flinches at the hurtful grip. Nebula, hearing her protest, smiles and whispers so only they could hear, “I shall enjoy destroying you as _he_ destroyed me.”

Her threat resounds in her ears as they walk away from the throne, away from Thanos and The Other. Jane cannot help but think that Loki had been right; she desperately wishes to be back in the confines of her cell, to be away from these monsters who were only out to hurt her.

Before they descend the stairs, Thanos’ authoritative voice booms, “Kill her, Nebula, and you shall long for something as sweet as pain yourself!” At the warning, Nebula pauses, smiles, and marches on.

* * *

Jane doesn’t know how much or how long they have walked for, but she hadn’t expected the land to be as expansive as it is. The terrain remains the same for the duration of their journey, all rocks and columns that tower over her, but there are shifts in the heavens, stars twinkling in and out of existence beside the many moons. If the situation isn’t as grim as it is, Jane would probably be more appreciative of what lies above her.

They eventually come to a halt once they reach a set of pillars which bend and form an arc, like a doorway. Nebula steps aside and motions for her to step forward, so Jane obliges. Once she puts a foot forward, she feels herself being transported – not quite _falling_ , but stumbling. The surroundings shift and Jane finds herself in a bright room, lit like her cell; with two figures standing on the other end. One, she recognizes as Loki – no longer in his Jotunn form – and another she is a stranger to. It is another female, just as long-limbed and slender as Nebula, but her disposition is different. She is much collected, less spiteful; and Jane notes that this alien is the first one who doesn’t look at her with hostile intentions. Her green skin stands out, her long dark hair falls in waves below her shoulders; Jane cannot help but think that she is probably just as deadly as she is stunning.

“You brought the Terran?” the green-skinned woman inquires apprehensively. “If you’ve taken her without permission from Father—”

“She is to be our sister, Gamora,” Nebula explains, holding Jane by the shoulders. “I think she would make a lovely addition to our family. I mean, she’s already destined to get one stone for him. He will use her just as he uses us.”

“She’s mortal; she will not survive.”

“Father probably thought the same of us when he kidnapped us – I mean, when he _took us in_ ,” Nebula continues with a grin, her fingers digging deeper into Jane’s skin. She winces and tries to pull away, but Nebula holds her in place. “If her flesh is weak, we can enhance her just like me.”

The other woman – Gamora – only shakes her head. “Father tasked us to prepare Loki. He is our priority. The sooner we obtain the Tesseract on Terra, the better.”

Nebula frowns and turns to look at their other prisoner and Jane follows suit. She sees Loki’s wrists are bound with shackles as he leans on one wall of the room, smirking despite being tied up. She had almost forgotten that he could be quite attractive in his Aesir guise – but still, she feels anger boiling beneath her skin as she recalls his last words to her. His now green eyes are locked on her and he laughs.

“They honestly remind me of my brother and me when we fight,” he shrugs, still reclining his back. “Not that I miss my arguments with Thor; arguing with him is comparable to quarreling with a fruit.”

“No one told you to speak!” Gamora hisses and she stalks up to him, grabs him by his shoulders and lifts her knee to hit him in the gut. Loki recoils and keels over, cursing in another language Jane is unfamiliar with. She is tempted to rush over him and help, but she remembers that they are presently not on the most amicable terms with one another. That, and if she had tried to help, Nebula probably would castigate her. So she stays still as she watches Loki writhe on the floor.

When Loki rises on his feet again, he is pressing over his stomach. “She may not appear like it, but she’s tough,” he tells Jane, gasping for air as he recuperates. Then, he turns to address the two sisters, a more provocative expression on his features. “But I’m enjoying this, I am. This is livening, refreshing; I cannot wait to be free of these chains! Then I shall be the one to personally see to your end!”

Gamora looks about ready to pounce, to attack; when Nebula steps in between them.

“Do not let him rile you, Sister. Watching you beat him to a pulp does not make for an interesting show. He is defenseless without his magic.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Gamora asks, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a brow.

“This.” Nebula walks to a table where the scepter with the blue end – the one which cases an infinity stone – lay, and she takes it into her hand; relishing in the power of the weapon before facing her sister again. “This would be fun.”

Before Loki can move out of Nebula’s way, Gamora strikes him behind his legs and he falls to his knees. Nebula taps the end of the scepter to Loki’s chest and just as Jane remembers, small blue sparks ripple through his skin and his eyes turn dark as night. Nebula, looking pleased with her work, walks over to Jane and puts a baton of sorts in her hands.

“Experience is the best teacher,” she says with a pat to her shoulder. “He can’t kill you, but he can maim you. It would do you well to at least try to survive.”

The two sisters leave and Jane finds herself alone again with Loki – _not completely himself Loki_ – and feels terrified – not only for herself, but for Loki as well.

“Loki,” she tries to reason, her voice coming out soft from fear. “You can fight this!”

He isn’t in control of himself, she reminds herself; if he is then he would not hurt her because Loki, despite everything he’s said, _cares_. It is not in his words, but in his actions – not his present attempts to gravely injure her, but his previous acts of kindness, though most likely unconscious ones. Loki runs up to her and she ducks, moves away to the other end of the room. Jane thinks of the man telling her of alien planets and new galaxies, other realms and starlight in their shared prison – not this _drone_. She clutches the weapon Nebula handed to her as she runs, avoiding Loki’s reach. She runs and runs and _runs_ , until she trips over and Loki pushes her further to the ground. He sits atop her so she cannot escape his hold and his hands wrap around her throat, barring the air from entering and leaving her lungs. It is the first time they are in contact with each other and Jane feels the warmth of his skin and the chill of his touch.

“Oh, _Jane_ ,” he laughs out, though it sounds empty; his eyes void of emotion. Jane tries to fight, she does, she tries with all her strength to push back Loki’s vice grip on her neck, but she cannot overpower the god.  “Jane, Jane, _Jane_. I had told Thor I would come for you after he had returned to Asgard changed, but the fates have conspired to bring you to me instead! I would kill you now if it means I would spite Thor one last time!”

“Loki,” she calls, struggling to breathe. “Loki, please—”

His demented sneer is the last thing she sees before the world around her becomes dark. 


	6. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I survived my midterms (more or less) and I'm back with a chapter of The Resistance! I wanted to update on my birthday last week as my gift to you guys, but personal responsibilities held me back from finishing the chapter. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one!

“People will do anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own souls.”  
Carl Jung

* * *

After Loki’s assault, Jane vaguely registers the hollow of her being. She wakes with dread, with the tingling sensation of Loki’s fingers still wrapped firmly around her neck. When she closes her eyes, all she sees is the blue in Loki’s eyes which had not belonged, which had told her that it  _wasn’t_ him. And yet her mind could not reconcile Loki’s violence with what her body has been feeling – or rather, what she isn’t feeling at all. As there is no reflective surface in the cell, Jane cannot know for sure whether the skin of her neck is marred with purpling bruises. She tries to press over the area to search for the accompanying tenderness, but there is nothing. Her flesh has numbed over. Her prison is cold; her life, now truly dark and desolate.

And in the moment, it all weighs down on her: how she had been so foolishly optimistic all this time! To have believed that rescue in the form of Thor – or _anyone at all_ – would come. Loki had, in more than one occasion, called her hope naïve. But she had argued desperately, wanting to trust whatever higher beings existed that the two of them weren’t fated to die so far away from their homes. In turn, Loki had refuted her by explaining that they were beyond the Nine Realms, beyond the sovereignty of the King of Asgard. They were no longer under the jurisdiction of the All-Father’s protection. She had wanted to believe, she had wanted to hope; but now…

Now there is nothing, only her construct of flesh around a broken spirit. She almost wishes they had instead taken her mind – then she’d be unconscious of their cruelty, of the suffering she has to endure.

Nebula doesn’t stop. True to her word, she tries to take Jane under her wing, though she is by no means a teacher. She is not a supportive mentor like Erik had been. Nebula is harsh and forbidding, and authoritarian in her rule over the weaker mortal – which Jane surmises she must have taken from her powerful father, adopted or not. Nebula believes in learning by experience, because that is how she herself had learned – and how she had lost herself. She forces Jane to fight until the mortal no longer has the strength to carry on, to take on beatings until she cannot see through her eyes; to endure such torture until she can no longer register anything happening to her.

And Jane wakes up back in her cell, feeling nothing physically wrong with her body. No broken bones, no blossoming bruises, nothing at all. There is nothing on her to indicate what Nebula had put her through, but Jane _knows_ of her trauma. Again, Jane dismisses the unexplainable healing as _magic_ , but she doesn’t question why they allow for her immediate recovery. After all, what use is a broken toy?

Every day, she awakens to the same hollowness. Every day, she is taken to attempt to survive. Every day, she passes out in fatigue. Every day, the same torturous cycles.

Every day, she wishes they would just end her life.

And Loki is never there.

* * *

Except, one day, he is.

Jane wakes up and as soon as she sees his figure on the opposite end of the cell, she crawls further away from him – in fear, in trauma, in _something_ that tells her muscles to get as far as she can. Her body reacts instantaneously, opting for flight when there is no more fight in her. There is supposedly a wall between them, but Jane no longer trusts in what she knows because from the moment she stepped into her self-created portal, her world had ceased to make any sense.

She doesn’t take her eyes off of Loki. From their distance, she cannot tell whether he is under another form of control or not – but it doesn’t matter; Jane is scared all the same. Her breaths have hitched and her pulse has syncopated. He doesn’t look at her like she is prey. Instead, on his face is a mask of indifference – so far from her own expression of terror.

The fallen prince is no longer in the simple tunics he used to wear when he was still in the cell with her. His attire reminds Jane of when she had first seen Thor in his customary clothes – but where Thor had looked like a hero, Loki looked like a true _villain_. His leathers are dark as night, contrasted only by the brass plating of his armor and the forest green of his cape. He exuded a foreboding aura, his outfit designed to make him appear bigger than he truly is. His shoulder plates, his surcoat; the golden horns of his helmet that added a good foot to his stature. Loki looks _powerful_ , and Jane could only think of how unkempt and filthy she must look compared to him.

Loki makes his first movement – raising his arms to reach for his headpiece. He takes it by the side and sets it down on the floor beside his boots, revealing his newly trimmed and tamed hair. Jane flicks her gaze to the helmet for less than a second, yet when she looks back up, Loki is already at the center of the room, right before the invisible divider. Jane, acting purely on instinct, pushes herself further into the wall, hoping to distance herself from him – to no avail. There is nowhere else to go.

He stares at her impassively for who knows how long – Jane has given up on measuring time. Still, it passes in silence on his side. For her part, her laborious breathing and the rushing of blood in her ears is almost deafening. He doesn’t speak, only keeps his eyes steady on hers; and where once she saw confusion and the smallest of hope in his eyes, now there is only an emptiness that almost mirrors her own.

“They truly have broken you,” he says and the silvery sound of his voice, so familiar, telling her the truth of what has happened to her makes a strangled cry rise to her lips. Tears well at the corner of her eyes and once she blinks, they fall down to the slopes of her cheeks, and she wraps her arms around herself, nails digging into her own flesh so deeply that it hurts. Despite her undignified reaction, he doesn’t look away. “Jane, I—”

For the slightest second, he shows emotion. Loki looks as though he is struggling for his own words, even when she has expected him to already have a speech planned beforehand. He has always been calculated with what he says, but now he looks tongue-tied, and Jane can’t bear to face him anymore. She turns her gaze away and fixates on the light at the end of the room.

“You told me once that I wasn’t a monster, Jane.” She remembers how he had cried, how he was more afraid of himself than she was of him; how he had struggled in his actual flesh. “You weren’t lying then, because it was what you believed to be true. But now, after what I had done, after what I had allowed to happen to you, you see me for the monster I truly am, don’t you, Jane?”

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t know what to answer. _No. Yes._ Jane doesn’t know how to distinguish the two anymore after one session with Nebula in which she had been required to answer questions which she didn’t know how to answer. Jane wants to say _no_ , because what he had done to her wasn’t in his control – that much had been clear to her. What has happened to her was in no way his fault. But she also wants to say _yes_ , because his _words_ of what he would have done to her just out of spite for his brother – they haunt her. Loki would have killed her.

Now, she wishes there was no wall between them. Perhaps he would finally follow through. It would be a kindness if he does.

“I am to be a crusader, Jane. I am to claim your home realm, Midgard, for Thanos.” At the mention of her faraway planet, Jane finally stares back at Loki. He still looks at a loss. “And I am to be its king. I do not doubt that my campaign be victorious. I have promised my loyalty to Thanos; in turn I am to wield The Scepter, the mind stone within it. I shall have control over his army, the Chitauri, and your realm will not be prepared for an invasion of this magnitude. Midgard will fall and your people will learn to bow to me, to Thanos.”

She shakes her head as her mind is filled of visions of terror – of these alien creatures as cruel as Thanos, as Nebula coming to earth and laying waste to her planet. Of her people undergoing the same treatment as she. It chills her to the bone and still she finds nothing within her to speak of the unfairness of it all, only: _no_. No, no, _no_.

Loki raises his hand to the boundary and spreads his fingers apart to set his palm flat on the unseen surface. He is reaching out for Jane. She knows he can project himself to her side if he wished, but he is keeping his distance as she is. This comforts her, but only minutely.

“That is the plan. It is my new burden, my new purpose,” he continues, his lips faltering into a frown. His brows furrow and the skin around his eyes creases. “At the beginning, I rejected his proposition, and for that I was tormented. But now, Jane, you must understand that this is the only path in which I get anything remotely close to what I truly want. You must understand that this is not what I had intended…”

“Why are you telling me this?” are the first words Jane finds in herself to say out loud. Even then, they sound more like a croak then actual words. Loki is surprised, his mouth left hanging slightly. She coughs and despite the ruggedness of her voice, she speaks on. “If you are so convinced that I think you a monster, what does my knowledge on your intentions matter?”

“Thanos rewards those who seek out the stones for him.” She remembers him telling her that, too. “I had agreed because this way you’ll be safe,” he answers after a while, retracting his hand from the wall and bringing it back to his side. “Not quite safe, but spared. No harm shall befall you any longer. Not under the hand of Thanos anyway.”

The next sounds that come out of her mouth aren’t coherent at all. It’s a mix of questions, of _how, what, why_.Her hands reach to her neck and ghost over where his fingers had been. She doesn’t fully comprehend the implications of what Loki had just said. This means no more pain, no more suffering from Nebula.

“It was never real, Jane,” he continues before she can say anything. “All Nebula had done was use the mind stone on you. And they made me watch at the side as you fought visions of her in your head. I tried to stop it the first time, but then they used it on me as well. You were never hurt physically, but in your mind…”

He stops talking when he hears her weeping. All this time – all those countless days in which she had believed herself to be at the receiving end of such cruelty – it had all been in her head. They might not have placed scratches on her flesh, but to her they had done something far worse. They had tricked her, deceived her. They had used her mind against her. It was a transgression she would never forget, never forgive – that she would never recover from.

It takes her a while to get her bearings together, for her erratic breathing to calm. Her eyes swollen and puffed, Jane knows she is nowhere near presentable, but it doesn’t matter to her. If she once had seen Loki at his worst, this is now Loki seeing Jane at hers. She stands with resolve, for the first time in what she thinks has been forever, and walks to the center of the room, like she had done many times before when it had just been her and Loki. Now thinking more clearly, there are questions Jane needs the answers to. Loki could have asked for anything and Thanos would have granted it, but he had spent his wish on her. Her, an insignificant little mortal lost in the stars, so far away from home. Who is she to have been given such from Loki?

She stands before him, a complete mess compared to his regalia. She raises her hand on the glass, reaching out for him, and he mimics her motions, placing his palm over where hers lay. Now up close, Jane sees directly into his eyes; sees the _green_ of them, not tainted blue in any way. In front of her is _Loki_ , free of anyone’s control; just _him_. She tries to smile, even with tears still streaming down the sides of her face; and so does he, but the questions remain in her mind. _Why did he do it?_

“I don’t know,” he answers, as though having read her thoughts. “I don’t know why I asked for _you_ , for your safety. You are but mortal, and thus your life will end before my eyes. This day, the next – you’re but a _heartbeat_ to me, Jane. And yet… I don’t understand my decision myself. Who are you, Jane? To Thor, you might have been his saving grace back on Midgard, but to me, here; are you mine? Are you the girl to redeem both brothers? The girl who thinks she could tame the beast of me, who could quell my insecurities with meaningless affirmations of my humanity? Has this been weaved in our fates, sealed long ago by the Norns? I had wondered of it from the day you arrived here, why it was you who found me here. Who are you, Jane, for me to have bargained for? What is your life to the thousands who will burn in his name? To the millions he will devastate? Why is it _you_ —?”

“Loki,” she interrupts, his name but a rasp; yet he stops and focuses on her. He is rambling and she doesn’t quite understand all that he’s saying, but what she knows for certain is this: he had protected her; he had uncharacteristically been unselfish _for her_. It doesn’t matter what his reasons had been; Jane knows he is being sincere. Her voice is softer this time when she says, “Thank you.”

“No, Jane,” he says, looking vulnerable albeit all his armor. “Thank _you_.”

They stay that way for quite some time, him looking down at her and her looking up at him, their hands separated only by the thin wall, not speaking any more in fear of ruining whatever comfort they have gained in the moment – until a disembodied voice cuts in and they both jump away from one another.

“Asgardian.” It is Gamora speaking, though she isn’t in the room with them. “Come back up. Do not make my father wait.”

“Jane?” He looks to her, his expression tender.

“Go,” she tells him. To her order, he simply nods and walks back to his helmet and picks it up off the ground, dusting it before replacing it over his head. Again, he looks terrifying – yet Jane isn’t as scared of him as when he first came in.

“Don’t lose hope,” he says with semi-finality in his tone, his parting words not quite a goodbye. “Not for your rescue. Not for me.”

And with a flash, Loki is gone, and Jane is alone once more.

If this has all been yet another vision brought about by the mind stone, then it proves that their brutality knows no bounds. But if it isn’t…

He asked her to not give up. It may have been the most demanding task she has yet to face, but after what he’s done for her, she would at least try.

* * *

Gamora is there waiting for him when he exits the cell. As he is no longer a prisoner, he has the freedom to move in and out of rooms as he pleases – not that there is much to see on the rock Thanos calls his home anyway. He has some form of status once more,  _power_ . Thanos has given him as much for his cooperation, and the two sisters weren’t too pleased with having no one to play with.

“Must I go to the titan?” He gives her a small grin. “Or did you just wish to interrupt?”

The green-skinned alien does not show any expression on her face, as pretty as it is. “You’re an idiot. The mortal’s a weakness of yours, and Father will exploit her should you fail.”

“I will not fail,” he responds with all the imperial confidence ingrained in his being. “And she is no weakness of mine.”

“Is that how you justify the show you just pulled off?”

“It is as you say: a show.”

“Loki _no-one’s son_ ,” Gamora recites, her poker face faltering as her lips twist into a frown. “God of mischief, silver-tongue, lie-smith.”

“I have been called those in my lifetime, yes.”

“Yet you fool no one with your words.”

“This is not the purpose of your summon,” Loki states, eyeing her warily. “If Thanos truly requires my presence, you wouldn’t be stalling.”

Gamora elects to ignore him and inclines her head, puts her chin up, and walks through the dark corridor. Loki pursues a few steps behind her until they stop in front of a room he knows the infinity stone is held in.

“You’re entrusting it to me today?” Loki asks with a smirk. “Or will Nebula be joining me? I’ve quite missed her murderous ways. How is your sister doing today?”

“You will familiarize yourself with the scepter,” she instructs, paying no heed to Loki’s miserable attempts at annoying her. “You know what not to try, Loki. Any misstep and Jane Foster will be begging for death.”

“Oh, I am quite familiar with how this is supposed to work,” he mutters darkly under his breath before stepping into the room by himself. As usual, his magic is bound within the confines of the walls with ancient power Thanos placed to limit others with capabilities such as him, disallowing him to take off with the scepter. He takes a step toward the table where the artifact lay, the infinity stone within the end glowing a constant bright blue. He places his hand on the handle and immediately feels the surge of power run through his veins. It is exhilarating, inebriating, _maddening —_ he had felt something similar when he was in possession of Odin's spear, Gungnir.

Memories of his short-lived term as King of Asgard flash through his head, the mind stone in his hands making them feel all the more _real_. He relives his fall from grace – in more ways than one – and the emotions that come with it: the resentment, the bitterness, the fear… it is all genuine.

And then there is Jane and unwanted sentiments that come with the thought of her: curiosity, geniality, _hope_.

He shakes his mind clear of her.

With the scepter in hand, he walks to the end of the room and sits down with his legs crossed beneath him and shuts his eyes close. He pours his energy and concentration to just one thought: to one place he knows all too well, to the only woman he has ever loved.

When he opens his eyes, he sees a bright room of blue and gold full of splendor and warmth and comfort unparalleled by anywhere else in all the Nine Realms and beyond.

“Loki?” Someone calls out in disbelief. “Loki, is that you?”

He smiles, but his own voice wavers as he responds.

" _Mother_.”


	7. Guiding Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this before Christmas ends. This story is taking a few twists and I'm just setting it up with this chapter. It took me a while to finish this because I wanted to be clear with the direction, so you guys should have an idea of what's about to go down in the next chapter. 
> 
> Also, I hope I haven't disappointed anyone with how I've written this so far. If you have issues with it, I'd love to hear your comments on it. There was quite a debate the other day in my comment section and honestly it made me even more critical of my own work, hence the time it took to post this. I was considering it for a few days, whether I should post it or scrap it altogether. I really hope you don't burn me or anything after this chapter.
> 
> Happy holidays to all of you!
> 
> PS an update for my other fic is coming soon! winkwink

“You could fight against cruelty, tooth and claw, but sympathy engulfed you, took you over, made you aware of all you’d done wrong.”  
Alice Hoffman

* * *

Jane thinks she’s adjusted to the loneliness well enough. When she’s not sleeping, she takes to talking to herself, just to keep her sanity. Her mind is what she values the most, and after knowing how it feels to not have control of her mind, how easily a vision blurs with the lines of actuality, Jane wants nothing more than to be never violated in that way again. If Thanos keeps to his word, that then Jane needn’t worry, but _still_. Jane knows better than to trust someone whose ambitions surpass whatever morality they have.

In truth, Jane doesn’t know if she trusts Loki as well.

For all his good intentions towards her, he is still Thor’s brother; the very same that betrayed the god of thunder, claimed the throne of Asgard for himself, murdered the king of Jotunheim, and did a great deal of damage in Puento Antigue – just so he could somehow prove himself to his father, that he is just as worthy as his brother. He isn’t a good person, but he’s not as terrible as she initially pegged him to be either. She doesn’t understand what Loki is supposed to mean to her, but they’ve come to depend on one another on this desolate and cruel world. They weren’t exactly _friends_ , but after what they’ve been through together, they’ve passed the point of mere casual acquaintances. Perhaps, being isolated in deep space does that to people.

He must see her as some sort of absolution, as a light in the darkness of his chosen path. And she… she sees him as the only star in this empty expanse, her guiding light that could perhaps one day lead her back home.

Those are Jane’s thoughts as Loki appears in front of her. Flecks of green and gold glimmer around him and fade in a matter of seconds as he transfers his physical body in her cell. She’s yet to discover what the mechanism of their teleportation is, and in the back of her head she’s already doing calculations for the energy that could make each individual atom transfer in that way, but she consigns to the magic that is beyond her understanding – at least, for now. Every time Loki visits her, she makes it a point to try to squeeze as much information about the elusive art he is proficient at.

“They haven’t been treating you unfairly, have they?” he asks as he steps to the light. Every time, Jane swears he’s getting handsomer, though his unnecessary confidence could not repel her any more. She doesn’t know what it is with Asgardians, but they wear their leather quite well.

“I don’t think there’s anything fair about the food they feed me,” Jane grumbles, to which Loki laughs. His mirth sounds much lighter and it brings a flutter to Jane’s gut – not because of non-platonic feelings she could possibly have, but because his chuckles bring on the illusion that they are even remotely _happy_. “So, what have _you_ been up to? It’s been, what, almost five days – moon cycles, whatever you call it out there – since you last visited.”

“It has?” Loki appears to be truthfully perplexed as he scrunches his brows together and clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “The time blurs together when you’re…”

“You’re what?” Jane interrupts, though all she gets in response is the same blank stare that gave him pause to begin with. The scientist shakes her head and says, “Okay, I get it. You’re on a super-secret mission which includes taking over the universe, stuff that I’m not privy to. Just don’t forget me when you’re ruling over my people.”

“That’s not it, Jane,” Loki says slowly. “I’d rather not talk to you of it. The knowledge of my mission could possibly endanger you. After all the trouble I went through to keep you out of this mess, I’d rather you not get hurt.”

“Because you care,” she teased him. Despite her own light tone, Jane is more than wary. She acknowledges the possibility that Loki is lying to her even now. “You don’t have to hide it. I already know you’re a big softie on the inside, just like your brother.”

“Because you would then become a wasted investment,” he says, ignoring her last comment, though she doesn’t miss the way he looks at her crossly at the comparison. “The worlds could burn, and it wouldn’t matter; but you _will_ be safe so long as you are by my side, Jane.”

“Because _you care_ ,” she repeats firmly. The second time she says it, it sounds less like a joke, even to her. Loki, in whatever twisted way she understands of him, actually does give a damn about what happens to her. That, and Jane is convinced that the feeling is mutual between the two of them. Whenever Loki’s out, she worries for him, on the toll of having such power in his control could do to him. Though he always looks alright, she suspects that he is casting illusory charms; that he is just hiding how fatigued he truly is from whatever conditioning or training he’s undergoing to fulfill his mission.

Loki strides towards her and before Jane knows it, he’s already in front of her, holding her shoulders down while she looks up at him. Again, she’s forgotten just how tall he really is. All this time, he has kept his distance from her, afraid that she’d relapse with the memory of how he had hurt her the last time they had been permitted to be close to one another. Jane could remember how cold his hands and actions had felt then, but now there is only _warmth_. He cups her cheek with his hand and Jane leans into the comfort of his touch, like he is casting magic on her that is healing every hurt she’s been keeping to herself.

Jane cannot explain the hammering of her heart. Is it fear? Is it anticipation? Whatever the cause, she knows it is from an emotion that grounds her, that keeps her from both running as far away from Loki and melting into his hands. He places his lips over her forehead and she cannot register much else of her surroundings. There is only the feel of Loki, his physical presence engulfing her like a tidal wave, like she has never been _aware_ of him before this.

When he pulls back, a fever spreads all over her body from where his lips had been.

“Loki…” she starts, unsure what to say next, which is a good thing as he cuts her off.

“You’re the only reason I’m still here.” His voice is a velvet whisper resounding over the rush of blood in her ears. “Before you came, I wanted to _die_. I was falling and I was ready for it. The Titan found me and I thought that he would be the one to swing the axe or crush me in his hands, but you, Jane, you truly might be the end of me.”

She doesn’t know what to say, how to react. She doesn’t know what any of what he’s saying is supposed to mean, but if it’s anywhere near the confession that she thinks it is, then… Her mind is a blank slate. Nothing is making sense, and Jane starts to think that she’s dreaming, but Loki’s touch is very much real and he appears to be expecting an answer from her.

“I just wanted to see the stars,” she tells him, awkwardly shifting away from his grasp as she can’t think straight with their proximity. “And your brother confirmed that there was something beyond earth, and I couldn’t let the opportunity like that pass. I spent tireless nights building the machine that sent me here, did all the calculations, even made a miniature fusion chamber just to power the whole damn thing. And when I did it, I didn’t know whether I was flying or falling. All I knew was that I was surrounded by the stars and if I was going to die, it wasn’t the worst way to go.”

She blinked back the tears of the memory, of the feeling of fear she remembers which is now deeply rooted in her heart.  She would never forget the simultaneous exhilaration and terror from being alone in space.

“And I ended up here, which is honestly even more terrifying, and I met you and you… you’re not the worst part of being trapped here. Given everything else, I think I can say that you’re the best.” She pushes back the images of The Other, of Thanos, of Gamora and Nebula to the back of her mind. She tries to think of what makes her happy in this dreary world, and all she can think of is him. “You saved me. I owe you my life, Loki.”

“And I owe you my soul, Jane Foster,” he responds with a soft smile. Excepting when he was in his Jotunn form, this may be the most vulnerable Jane’s seen Loki, and she doesn’t know what to make of it. When she looks back into his eyes, she can see moisture pooling at the corners. Is he _crying_? “Will you forgive me?”

This catches her off guard. “What—?”

“I have done many a terrible thing in all my years of living, Jane, and not once have I genuinely asked for any sort of pardon. Until now. Until _you_.”

“Why, Loki? What have you done?”

Loki doesn’t answer and Jane begins to panic internally, but she can’t quite act on it because he’s pulling her closer and planting another kiss over her hairline, again casting a spell that causes her to relax. Her eyes flutter to a close and her breaths even out; her heartbeat slows and without another word, she has fallen into the sweet tendrils of sleep.

* * *

 When Loki pulls himself away, the scepter in his hand shakes under his vice grip. 

“That was cruel of you,” the deep yet feminine voice beside him says, in a mixed tone of disdain and awe. “To use the mind stone on her? I almost didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I don’t want to hurt her anymore,” he replies with a sigh as he looks on over the cell in which Jane is in, laying peacefully in her cot, unaware of the unreality of their previous interaction. “But I had done that out of necessity. She _will_ be home soon enough.”

“You’ll be sending her back to Terra, where you’ll be waging war against her people?” Gamora scoffs. “That’s not exactly the greatest plan I’ve heard. And as far as your intentions go, it’s not the most romantic gesture either.”

“The people there know that she’s favored by Thor. They would keep her safe, if only to spare themselves of the wrath of an Asgardian prince.” There is something about admitting his not-brother’s feelings for the earthling he himself had grown fond of that left a bitter taste on his tongue. “And as far as my _true_ intentions go, you know nothing of what I plan.”

Loki takes one last glance at Jane before he turns on his heel and begins walking to his own quarters, where he would finalize his preparations for his trip to Midgard soon. He feels disconcerted after what he did to Jane, knowing that he violated her mind as he had. But at the same time, he feels anger. He had seen that she does not completely trust him, leading him to believe that she is just as faithless to him as everyone else in Asgard was. Still, he had to credit her for almost seeing through his illusion.

“I have a feeling.” Gamora easily catches up to him and follows each and every stride. “You are going to betray my father. You will take the scepter and the tesseract for yourself. Maybe you’ll go back to Asgard for whatever retribution you think is due, but you’re not going to follow through with my father’s demands.”

He stopped in his tracks to face the green-skinned woman, his calculating gaze meeting her ferocious eyes.

“I see right through you, _Asgardian_.”

“I figured _you_ would. Quite frankly, your father may be a brilliant tactician with war stratagems, but he could be dull when it comes to the loyalty of those right in front of him.” Though she stands level with him, he brings his chin up in a display of authority. “I speak from experience. You and your sister should try to not be as obvious with your ire for your father. Nebula, especially.” Loki almost lets out a laugh at the thought of the other adopted daughter of Thanos. They are more alike than he would care to admit. “If you hate him so much, why don’t you leave?”

“There is no place I can go where he cannot find me,” Gamora answers with a glare. “Which you should take to heart, now that I know of what you plan. He will pursue you across the star systems if you betray him, and he will destroy everything you hold dear to reclaim the infinity stones.”

He sneers. “Then I might be lucky that I do not hold anything dear. Not anymore.”

She frowns, not believing his façade for one second. “What of Jane Foster, then?”

“What of her?” he asks back with a flinch in his tone, which Gamora catches on easily. “She is a mere mortal, and she will be gone before anyone knows it. Her life is of little consequence—”

“I am tired of hearing the same lies from your mouth,” she interrupts him harshly. “You don’t need to convince anyone else that you _don’t_ care for her. Whatever feelings you bear are irrelevant to your task. You only sound a fool, the more you speak of her mortality.” Gamora knows she is right, and the way Loki’s lips are angled downward only confirm her suspicions. “How do you plan to bring her home when Father wants to keep her here as leverage over you?”

“That is not your concern.” Loki scathingly declares, turning away from the woman, resuming his original intention of returning to his quarters. Before he could take a step away, Gamora grabs him by the arm rather forcefully. He’s not surprised at the brute force the warrior displays, but at the gall of her to touch him at all.

“It _is_ when I want to help you.” 

* * *

“Doctor! Doctor Selvig!” A tall woman in a dark suit made of synthetic leather catches up to the older man as she took long strides in her high-heeled boots. Agent Maria Hill, with an air of pragmatism, informs their consultant, “Director Fury wishes for an update on your findings.”

_Everything is going as planned. We can have a test run ready within the week._

“Everything is going as planned,” Erik Selvig repeats the words he hears in his head. “We can have a test run ready within the week.”

“Really now?” Agent Hill is surprised, though she is not in the place to question the research aspect of their project. She looks to her tablet and quickly types something on the screen before returning her attention back to the astrophysicist. “It’s nice to hear that you’re doing well with your work, Doctor Selvig. That’s a lot more progress than they’ve had in years. Do you have anything worth reporting to the director?”

_None of great import. The tesseract has been acting up lately, though it is nothing that cannot be contained._

“None of great import,” Erik answers with a shrug. “The tesseract has been acting up lately, though it is nothing that cannot be contained.”

_After that, we should be able to find a way to stably draw out the energy in a matter of days._

“After that, we should be able to find a way to stably draw out the energy in a matter of days,” finishes Erik with a proud smirk.

She lets out a low whistle informally before resuming her previous austere appearance. “I’ll notify Director Fury. He’ll arrive tomorrow and will personally oversee the trials.” Agent Hill gives him a polite nod before taking a step back, resuming her walk to her planned destination. “Thank you for your time, Doctor Selvig.”

To Erik, his days in the hidden compound beneath the Mojave Desert are rather muddled. He is aware that he’s working towards something, but he isn’t sure what exactly his own goal is. The large payroll aside, he knows he wouldn’t have accepted this work normally as it feels like it is out of his own field – and yet _there he is_.

In a brief moment of clarity, he calls back on Agent Hill and she stops in her tracks and turns to face the disgruntled scientist.

“Yes, Doctor Selvig?”

“Do you know anything of Jane Foster yet?” the older man asks, this time feeling the words flow freely from his mouth instead of being forced. “Have they found anything at all?”

The agent looks through her tablet, swiping at a few icons on her screen to access certain files. She reads through them quickly before putting them away. Once she faces Erik again, she shakes her head with a more somber expression.

“I’m sorry, Doctor Selvig, but they’ve found no trace of her yet. We have Agent Coulson leading the search party for Doctor Foster, but his last report shows that they still haven’t come up with any lead,” Agent Hill tells him, an apologetic look on her face. “Optimistically, we’re considering the possibility that her device did work and she is currently in… _Asgard_.” The way she says the name of the realm from where Thor came from is in disbelief. Agent Hill, despite being desensitized to such matters, still remains skeptical of Norse mythology being true. “But on the other hand, there’s the possibility that she didn’t make it before the power source, well, exploded.”

Erik holds himself together. It would not do him well to break down in the middle of a corridor, surrounded by trained agents and fellow scientific peers. With a nod as acknowledgement of Agent Hill’s response, he turns and walks back to his laboratory, where he could spend hours mindlessly working on calculations and simulations over the glowing blue mystery they call the _tesseract_.

He has been branded as insane by those working around him, calling him an asinine old man, despite his brilliance and unparalleled contribution to their work on finding an alternative energy source within the cube. He talks to himself and acts paranoid, always looking over his shoulder before he speaks to others.

Loki can see the damage the mind stone has done on Erik Selvig, the beloved mentor and friend of Jane Foster. He can feel that the scientist slipping away from his grasp at times. There is a twinge of guilt Loki faces in his conscience every time he uses the mind stone to command Selvig from afar, but he cannot bear to think much of it.

He likes to think that Erik Selvig would have been willing even if he had asked permission in the first place, as this is the only way he could think of sending Jane back to her home.

 


End file.
